


Sealed

by Little_Firestar84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Budget Cuts hit the CBI pretty hard, causing Union reps to call a major strike, and when, in protest against Bertram, the building is sealed, what better opportunity for the team to force Lisbon and Jane, in the process of giving each other the cold shoulders, to face each other and confront their feelings in the aftermath of the season finale?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sealed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rothelena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothelena/gifts).



> Many, many thanks to my sister-in-writing, Rothelena, who allowed me to borrow this plotbunny, after I told her that I regretted my suggestions for this story because I would have loved to use those words...

Their daily routine wasn’t what they would have called as paradisiac, nor ideal. It was, quite literally, hell on heart, starting with “Rigsby! I told you to finish that report yesterday! Why isn’t it on my desk right now?”, continuing with “Van Pelt, if I tell you to stay here and keep searching info on our victim, it means stay here and keep searching info on our victim, and not run after Rigsby or Cho for a potential murderer”, ending with “Cho, I want you to monitor our suspect’s activity, call me tomorrow morning with an update”. 

Their daily routine wasn’t good, and they knew all too well what was the reason, or, better yet, who was responsible for the boss’ outburst of rage and perennial hysteria: Patrick Jane. 

Of course, they knew his “fugue” in Vegas had hurt her big time, but, back then, she had been more… turned off than angry, upset and sad, but never, ever, had she done something like to them. He was the culprit, not them, and the only time she had dared to almost (almost) scream at Van Pelt it had been when the red head had suggested getting him out of trouble even if he still kept refusing contact of any kind.

She had been… relieved when he had returned, and for a couple of days, the few days spent in Vegas in hiding, they could see her coming back to what she used to be, what she had always been supposed to be, happy, smiling, almost carefree Teresa Lisbon. But then…

But then, in interrogation, Lorelai had dropped the lover bomb on her, then Jane had refused for few weeks to let her in on his interrogations with the wonnabe friend of the serial murderer, and Lisbon had lost it. She hadn’t allowed Jane to take her light away, to break her. She simply decided she had enough of his childish and misleading and manipulative behavior. He didn’t want to share? It was fine with her. but it had to be long term, she wasn’t going to allow him to come and go as he pleased, if he wanted her out, she was going to be out, point. 

Only… only, it was hard, harder that what she had thought. It wasn’t only his betrayal – despite the fact that she didn’t have any claim on him, and they both knew it too well – it was the fact that he wasn’t doing exactly a good work of trying to come back into her good graces. Running after her like a lost puppy? Not the best solution. If he wanted her, he was supposed to be fighting for her, to be fighting her, and not act like he was some witness to his own existence. 

And the worst part was that she wasn’t able to take it on him. she just couldn’t. she was so mad she couldn’t even scream at him, because she knew, she knew that he knew that she was mad and why she was so mad with him and still he wasn’t doing anything to change things. He kept refusing fighting her for her or them or whatever he wanted.

Because, did he tell her what he wanted? No. he simply whispered the damn word, he told her the l word, and then, didn’t say a word, he even dare to say that he wasn’t sure he had talked out loud, didn’t remember the words because he was too hyped up to pay attention – he probably was too concentrated on memories of the skin of the whore against his own, the damn, slick bastard. 

And since she wasn’t able to unleash her rage on him, she did it so with the closest substitutes: the team, turning their everyday life and routine in the aforementioned hell in the bullpen. And frankly: they were quite fed up with that. But they didn’t know what to do to stop this. They couldn’t talk with Jane, because he kept looking at his feet like a sad, lost, ashamed puppy, without saying a sole word, and they couldn’t talk about it with Lisbon, because, only time they did try, she made their lives even worst claiming they were just trying to take the idiot’s side, trying to cover for him, and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. 

But: something had to be done. 

“They need to sort things out! It’s so sad, don’t you think?Jane’s doing his best to meet her half way, but the boss isn’t doing anything to help him out!” the read head whispered one morning, Lisbon in her office, Jane yet again in the attic, pretending to be working on something. 

“Ehy, I don’t like this as well, but seriously Grace, do you blame the boss? After what he did to her? She had tried to meet him halfway for over six months, and you saw how it ended. And besides, weren’t you the one saying that we were helping him out just because she had asked us to?” it was true: Rigsby didn’t like having to spend the night working on reports, but he didn’t mind it so much either (also because Sarah hadn’t appreciated Jane’s last stunt so much and he was still banned from their bedroom) and, mostly, he could understand her. Despite what people assumed, he was probably the one the boss was closest to, so he had seen what being rejected by Jane – because to her, it felt like rejection – had done to her. 

“I don’t think this is why she is so mad with him. in Vegas she was different. I mean, she did asked us to help them out, and yet, as soon as we’re back…”

“It’s because he slept with Lorelai.” Cho deadpanned, without stopping reading Pride and Prejudice. “and this is not right. She is jealous. She should tell him. That’s why we need to do something. Because if we don’t act fast…. This will never end. Every time he’ll talk with a woman, things will just get worse for us, and taking orders by a lunatic in love? As much as I love the boss as she was family, that’s not why I joined the Force. ” 

“Yeah, ok, she is mad with him, and doesn’t want to face him to say things in his face. What are we supposed to do about it, uh? We can’t force them to play seven minutes in Heaven expecting that everything will come back as it was before!” 

“Well, maybe not seven minutes, but I think we could try with a couple of days in the attic….” 

“Jane’s never going to buy it. He’ll know that we’ll be up to something as soon as we’ll be up to something. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep ita secret. Or that I’ll be able to avoid punching him on the nose.”

“Then, maybe, we should recruit him. Trust me, I’m as mad as you are with him, but I can see that he is honestly sorry for what he did tothe boss, and he just wants for things to go back to what they used to be…” And saying so, Grace smiled behind her teeth, extremely proud of herself; giggling, she knew that her work as the cupid of the week had already started. And she felt that, given the right circumstances, and if thing were going to go as they hoped they would,operation:Serendipity had the potential to be a success- a huge success.

They had to wait for a couple of weeks before they could operate without Lisbon suspecting anything, because they knew it: timing was everything.They needed Jane to be at his lowest, and saddest, point, Lisbon tired of being mad but not ready yet to forgive him, and they needed a situation where they duo could be kept captive- without being actually being held captive- so that they could work things out on their own, almost forced to by the close distance and the continuous presence of each other. 

The strike of the CBI employees against the budget cuts had been just the proverbial ace in their sleeves. Bertram and the governor had decided to fire so many people, erasing a good number of departments, that everyone had agree that something drastic needed to be done; the Sac PD, the Sheriff’s office and the FBI had been willingly to cover for them for as long as it took them to fight for their jobs, and for the good of the citizens of California, and so, Union rep Langley had ordered everyone to evacuate the building before it was going to be closed with a chain: no one was going to return to their desk until Bertram and the Governor didn’t understand that California needed people ready and trained to serve and protect, and not nice offices for the higher-ups in rich and historical mansions that “plain” citizens weren’t going to see not even once in their whole lives.

“Ok, guys, you heard Langley, it’s time to go and fight. We’re gonna have just other five minutes before the building is going to be sealed until new notice…” she weaved with her hands for the team to follow her, and then put on her jacket, waiting for them to go in the elevator along with her, but, at her back, Grace was motionless, biting her lips and playing nervously with the hem of her shirt- something was definitely wrong, and she didn’t like it any bit. “Well?”

“Jane’s still in the attic being blue about his sorry excuse of a life. Says he doesn’t care if he starves to death until the CBI is on lockout.”

“Yeah, like it was possible. I bet he has at least a whole container of tea in his damn man-cave…” she grunted, moving away from the elevator and looking at the stairs, swearing under her teeth, hating what she knew had to do- a starved to death Jane couldn’t be any good in Bertram’s book, and right now they needed Bertram to go on their side, so… “Ok, I’ll take care of it. You can start going, I’ll join you as soon as possible. Just tell Langley to wait for me at the front gate…”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Rigsby looked at his two co-workers, nervously crossing and uncrossing his arms while they reached the front gate with everyone else. “I still think it’s not a good idea… I mean, what if it lasts longer than we think? They’ll really starve to death! We’ll all be accessory to murder!”

“No, it will probably be second degree murder” Cho simply said, without looking at his friend. “Besides, two days and we’ll come and free them if nothing happens on this front.”

“I still think we exaggerated a bit. I mean…. Blocking the elevator, andall those furniture on the stairs?”

“NO!” Grace almost screamed, as passionate as she had been just few times in her life. She needed for them to work things out, not because she hadn’t been able to with Wayne and any other man she had dated since she had moved to Sacramento, but because the world was enough of a sad place, and if she could help her “friends” to have a bit of light into their lives, if she could help them reach happiness, if she could make it a better place by bringing them closer to their hearts’ desire, so be it. “No, we need them into a secluded space. And besides, even if we weren’t to come here in a couple of days, they still have access to our floor, and we left enough food in the kitchenette to nourish an army!”

“Ehy, Cho, we were just waiting for you guys to close! Everyone’s there? where’s Lisbon and that consultant of yours?” Langley asked as they reached the rendezvous point at the front gate. 

“There’s been a gas leak in her apartment this morning, and she went to see how things were going…. Apparently, her neighbor, an old lady cat, forgot to close the oxygen tank….” Grace said, lying as Jane had thought her to- he would have been proud of her, had he seen her little act.

“Yep. And, you know, Jane’s not even a full time employee, just a freelance consultant, so he didn’t even bother to show up for work this morning…” 

“Ok, well, then… let’s proceed! CBI personnel is on strike from now on, and the building is sealed until new orders!”

Meanwhile, she had walked every step that separated her form Jane with an heavy heart- and feeling heavy with every step she was taking. She hated it, hated having to be the boss, to be strong, to be adult, to have to see him every damn day, and yet…. Yet, she knew she couldn’t help it. like it or not, she needed it, his presence in her life, and as bad as things were between them- and they were quite horrible - it was still better than the emptiness that she had felt while he was gone; she wasn’t going to lie to herself, she had suffered because of him, because she had been aware of the nature of her feelings for the blonde annoyance for a quite a while, and yet…

Yet, she couldn’t fully forgive him, because of the long six months, the longest of her life, because of the lies and the hidden truths, and yes… because of Lorelai, even if she knew she didn’t have any reason to- her love, despite his words, wasn’t reciprocated, and she didn’t have any claim on him, never had. He was a free man, free of doing whatever he wanted whim whomever he wanted. 

And then… then, she was still herself, she was her mother’s daughter: Nurse Lisbon had cured illness, and Senior Agent Lisbon had always done her best at curing the souls of the ones close to her, Jane included, and she didn’t want to stop right now, couldn’t, even if avoiding to give him the cold shoulders/silent treatment was getting harder and harder, with everything that had happened recently. And yet, still, she knew: how bad it was, it was just temporary, sooner or later they were going to return to normality, whatever normality could be for them, but it wasn’t time yet, nor she knew when “later” could actually happen.

“Jane, take your ass off that damn bed and come with me, because I don’t feel like being caged here for…” she stopped, dead, when she reached the top of the stairs, Jane looking at her nervously with hands in his pockets and a broken expression, the attic the shadow of what it used to be, no more darkness and dust and emptiness but scented candles and a Parisian beat that made her shiver in anticipation, of what, she didn’t know yet. “Jane?”

“…what?” she asked, or at least, she thought she did, since her voice was as low as it had never been before, and right on clue, she thanked the presence of the candles, because the light went off, along with the electricity, just another idea of Langley, to be sure that everybody would follow him. 

“They just wanted for us to talk, Lisbon, please, I know it’s been quite… extreme, but…” he took her hand, tentatively, and lowered his eyes to stare at his feet, like he was ashamed of something- the last few months, probably -and, with tears in her eyes, gulping a mouthful of saliva, she followed him to the small table, and sat right before him; she blamed exhaustion for what she was doing, and the fact that she was sick and tired of being md with him, of being the adult of the situation. Why couldn’t she be the princess for once? 

“Jane, listen…” she started, playing with her fork and her food, the strawberries cheesecake she loved so much and he had offered her so many times in the past. She didn’t feel like talking, but she knew she had to, and if they were going to be on lockout for only God knew how long, it better was sooner rather than later. 

“No, why don’t you eat your cake first? We’ll have all the time you want to talk, but we’ll not have a fridge to keep it cool.” 

She smiled tentatively, but felt like more honest than what she had provided in the last few weeks, and did as he had suggested her, only, as she soon noticed, like often, Jane didn’t seem able to follow his own advice. 

“I…I’m so sorry, and I know it will never be enough, but… it’s true, I’m sorry. For everything. For faking my breakdown, for having asked you to not listen to me and Lorelai, and I’m sorry that I…”

Tears took the better out of her, and she jumped, cupping his face and looking at the disbelief in his eyes. “I know” she whispered, joining him, and sitting in his lap, allowing Jane to hid his face in her neck, to cry all his tears against her ivoryskin. “I know, Patrick, I know…” she whispered, kissing his hair, and massaging his scalp, realizing suddenly how tired he was as well: tired of being alone, of not loving, tired of having to fight a lost battle, and tired of not having her at his side. 

And just like that, she knew: he had meant those words. He loved her, was in love with her, and that was why he had done what he had, why he had suffered just like she had. He was sick and tired of being alone, and to have her, he had to win the battle, but to win the battle, he had… he went to a new low, and as much as it hurt her… she knew:whatever he had done, all that he had done, he had done it for her- for them- and what had happened with Lorelai…

Lorelai was wrong. Jane wasn’t her lover, because love had never been a part of what they had shared in that Vegas motel, Jane had had sex with her, but he craved, what he deserved, what he had negated himself for 10 long years was love and affection…. And she had every intention of giving them to him, of showing to him that she was ready to provide them, that she understood everything, and was ready to move on from that impasse.

Leaning with her back against the table, she lifted his head, and kissed him, slowly and languidly, proud of herself when he moaned when she traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, asking for access;he granted it, closing his eyes in bliss and happiness, and yet failing to contain his tears. 

Moans filled the air soon, and as their tongue met, dueling for domination, and he gripped her hips so strongly that she knew he was going to leave bruises there, marking her as his own, she started to button his vest and then his shirt without doubts, with expertise, shifting the fabric when everything was done to greedily scratch his sculptured chest, torturing his nipples with her clever hands and malice. 

She felt him harden beneath her, and, once threw shirt and vest away, in some hidden corner, she went on her knees, parting his legs enough to get access to his belt and fly; Jane startled, remaining motionless, but didn’t give any sign of not wanting what she wanted to give, and allowed her to slowly remove what remained of his clothes. 

She nuzzled his groin at closed eyes, like it was bliss incarnated, and, tentatively, she dared to lick once, twice, with her tongue, almost shy, like she was doing it for the first time, despite knowing it too well, having always enjoyed this particular activity; he grunted like an animal in heat, and giggling, she upped the ante, taking him in her mouth as deep as she could, lovingly skimming on the satiny skin with her tongue, sucking him slowly, aiming not to get him off- as much as she had always appreciated it – but to arouse him furthermore. 

She sighed in pleasure, and startled annoyed when he took hold of her hair, thinking that he had decided to set the rhythm on his own, that he wanted to come into her mouth, but when he delicately forced her to let it go if his member, she understood it wasn’t the case: at first, she looked at him, unable to understand what was happening, wondering if, maybe, he hadn’t decided to back off once again, but then, he smiled at her, shaking his head, no, and guided her back into his lap, looking at her with adoration, like she was a goddess, or some kind of Madonna. 

She smiled in return, a bit shy, a bit ashamed of her thought, suddenly silly: she knew Jane wanted to make love with her, and she had wanted to give it to him, and yet… yet, she had given him oral sex, and oral sex wasn’t the right thing to do for a first time for someone as deeply as in love as them. 

Forehead against forehead, eyes in the eyes, she guided him in position, and they moved in unison, joining together with a chant of “oh” and languid purrs of cats, and immediately started to move, together, their thrusts melting together as they had danced that dance from the start of the world. 

“Teresa…” he whispered, as he quickened his tempo and hid his face between her breasts, attacking with his oh so clever mouth the tender tissues, knowing that what he was doing was just perfect for her by her energetic grip on his hair, getting stronger and stronger with each movement of his tongue against her hard and erect nipples.

“Jane…. Jane….” she whispered, unable to call him with something different; once again she took possession of his head, and lifted his face, joining into a heated kiss their lips, allowing them to suffocate her moans of pleasure as she reached the edge of glory, tightening her inner muscles around his thrusting shaft in an endless orgasm. 

He followed her, his orgasm provoked by her own, and emptied her with his essence, sighing in pleasure with the notion that he had just marked her with his essence, made her his own. 

His Lisbon. 

The teamhad freed them after a couple of days, just like promised, and as they were walking out of the CBI, Lisbon had merely looked at them, refusing to talk with her team mates – Rigsby was already foretasting the third watch of the following months, cursing his own stupidity for having agreed to such an idiotic plan to begin with.

Even if… Jane was strangely amused, happy, carefree, and even looked refreshed, like he had gained ten years in a couple of days, so, maybe…. There was still hope for them, a small hope, but an hope nevertheless. 

“Looks like you and Lisbon talked things out….” Grace said, an answer and yet not a question, walking at his side, looking at the way the boss’ hips were moving, clearly putting on a show for the consultant.

“Oh? Oh, yes, we did. It took us time, but… we did.” Oh, yes, they had “talked” for a long, long time, and in very possible place they could think of; he had took her from behind on his makeshift bed, had made her come beneath his lips on the kitchenette table, took her against her own door and on her desk, and made love to her, tenderly, and on top, on her couch, allowing again dominance and the top on his own couch. At the end, he had even decided to grant her heart’s desire, coming copiously between her lips, and down her throat, after she had “prepared” him rubbing his aching length between her breasts.

“Ouch. I hope boss has not been too rough….. I know how she can get when she is mad….”

He smirked. Yep, it had been rough, at least a couple of times. The woman could be a beast between the sheets! “Yeah, well, she has been quite rough, and hit a few sore spots, but, you know, I think it was what I needed as a wake-up call.” He smirked yet again, the memory fresh of all the incoming bruises, of her rough hands on him, of her fingernails scratching him, washing away Lorelei’s touch, freeing him for Teresa and Teresa alone.

While he walked behind Lisbon whistling, Grace rolled her eyes, grinning, and wondered if he knew she had read his innuendos, all of them, all right, because, despite the appearance, Grace van Pelt was still a CBI agent, and a good one, and she had seen the boxes of condoms he had hidden between the tea and the saucers.

She just hoped they hadn’t done it on her desk.

 


End file.
